Halo Wars 2
by Writing1sLife
Summary: The Ark. Undisturbed since Halo 3, it is now the sight of a new event of significance. Those warriors and forces of the past, shall meet to determine the fate of the future.
1. Ch 1 - The Signal

_Dark. There's nothing but darkness. I am alone. I can still hear the screams. All of them. Alone. There is nothing worse…except him._

. . . . . .

(UNSC _Spirit of Fire_ , Location: Unknown, Time: 2559, Condition: MIA, Official Status: Lost with all hands, 28 years since last known contact)

A relic of the past drifted silently like a tomb through the stars. It was old, very old. After all the things it had seen one would have thought that the Spirit of Fire would not have the ability to look proud and still capable of duty; yet, somehow it did. The main weapons, large guns with four barrels, stirred from their long silence, the lights, dark for so long, flickered back to brilliance, the ship's systems began to hum again with life.

" _Captain, wake up. Something's happened._ " The voice was automated or rather originated from something not human. It was an AI. " _The Spirit of Fire is in a situation I…could not have anticipated._ " Automated functions in the storage area began to eject pods containing living contents that slid out and then opened like an elevator. The human crew began to walk out of the hissing clouds in full uniform and most were on their feet within minutes. Efficient and knowledgeable of routine, each began heading to posts without question. One man in particular took a little longer than the others, mostly just to listen to the message but also to brace himself for the return to his duty. That, and to reflect upon the one empty pod containing an important name: Forge, the soldier who gave everything; he would be missed always, and that was another blow to the heart of Captain James Cutter.

" _I am sure that Professor Anders would enjoy that little admission, so let's just keep it between us, shall we?_ " The Ai continued professionally yet, sounded slightly weary. " _We've been adrift for just over twenty-eight years. I've made quite a few repairs while you slept, so the ship's systems are at one hundred percent. Cryo worked well and medstats on all remaining crew are green. As for me, well…regulations are quite clear about dispensation at the end of an Ai's seven-year lifespan._ " Cutter was now aboard the trolley that quickly sped one through the ships innards to its destination. His intent, the bridge, the place the Captain was always meant to be found. " _I took care of my own 'arrangements' rather than wake you. I didn't want to…well, I hope that you can forgive this final breach of protocol._ "

The tone shifted to one of exceeding weariness and regret, even sounding as if wishing to keep moving on yet being forced to accept reality. " _It was a pleasure and an honor to serve with you, sir._ " A pause, then, " _Do look after everyone for me, would you? Goodbye Captain. Serina out._ " That was the last time Cutter ever heard from the loyal AI that had accompanied his ship throughout the war.

The elevator at the top of the vessel could be followed thanks to the rectangle of light that flowed downward to the underbelly of the ship where the bridge awaited him. When the door opened, he was fully his professional self, a light covering of white beard on his face, cap squarely on his head, and…he was not the first here. Already another was on the bridge at work. Of course, it would be her; did the woman ever stop moving about?

She finally turned from the screens and displays. "I'll need to get down there. Immediately, of course," she said, her tone excited, her voice animated. Scientists, so very typical; like children with new toys. Every time there was something unknown in front of them…

"Good morning to you too, Professor Anders," calmly returned Cutter without bothering to look her way as he made his way to the holo-table that dominated the center of room. He knew her well enough, to know better than get caught up in her current. _Give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile_. Still he could not help but smile slightly. Nice to see that time had not dampened her functionality or personality.

"Sorry sir," chuckled Anders at her rudeness, "It's good to see you too sir." She returned to the topic of her interest. "But," she trailed off, her ability to speak somehow failing her, "I mean, just, look at it."

The bridge doubled as an observation booth for the floor and siders were clear glass, all the better to observe and coordinate ground movements if the ship was in the fight or watch the movements of the enemy in space.

They were in a stationary orbit or rather were holding position over something the likes of which Cutter had never seen before. Beneath him spread out a plane that was similar in appearance to Earth but it was not round, rather, it split off into an unusual shape like some metallic flower if you will. At the compass points of North, South, East, and West, were long arms and at Northeast, Northwest, Southeast, and Southwest, were arms half as long. It was basically a giant circle with eight arms extending from its center like the animal called a Sea Star from the ocean. Official diameter clocked it in at 127,530 kilometers which translated into 79,244 miles. Basically, it was huge, with a terraformed upper surface containing multiple Earth-like environments including oceans, deserts, and forests, all supported by an enormous artificial sun. It was a world capable of sustaining life and yet Cutter had to wonder who or what would live here?

"What is it? And where are we?"

Anders smile faded and she returned to business. "Um, unknown sir," she said sounding a bit depressed at this or at least rather confused. Her hands flew over the virtual star chart. "Our astro-navigation can't pin down a location." Everything read the same: _Unknown_. "We aren't on the map anymore."

"We didn't just drift out of the known galaxy in twenty-eight years professor," he muttered, his fingers smoothly navigating the virtual display to bring up the logs. "Sensor records show that we arrived…via slip-space less than an hour ago?" Now that was confusing and very strange.

Anders pulled up the info that they already knew but wanted to confirm none the less. "Our slip-space drive is gone, so, whatever it was that brought us here, it was definitely not us who initiated the trip." The information condensed into a package resembling a sphere. Anders smoothly "grabbed" it and then "threw" it on to the table in the center to magnify and sort with greater ease through the info. She began to rotate the virtual flower-like image as she continued. "Something down there," she got a fix on a specific piece of the image and pulled it away in order to magnify it, "must have opened the portal from this end, and pulled us in."

"Captain Cutter," blared the intercom, "receiving a signal from the surface. Its UNSC!" Anders head jerked up from her task with the signal in surprise.

"Signal to my location lieutenant," said Cutter not disguising his joy. "Let's hear just what they have to say."

An image of the message, in the form of lines like a sound wave chart, manifested before them. "I am sorry sir but I can't play it for you. It has an encryption scheme that we have never seen before."

Anders knew the routine and instantly retrieved the image and began to scour it with hand motions and eyes, looking for answers they both wanted. "Security measures would advance without us," said Cutter with resignation, but he was also contemplative. "And yet this transmission is coming through on a UNSC frequency." He turned to Anders. "This is good. This means that the UNSC is still in the fight. Or maybe that we even won the war. Can you triangulate it Professor?"

She compressed the image of the signal's waves and deposited it back to the "table" and pulled up the imagery of the area where the point of origin could be found. The image was just a flat mound of terrain with no virtual display of buildings or what else could be down there. She sighed in frustration, "We don't have the surface details yet sir. Something down there is blocking our scans and without Serina…"

She abruptly stopped at that. She didn't need to look Cutter in the face; she'd just struck at the wrong spot. "But," she amended, her words carefully chosen and slowly measured, "we do," she began to pull up the image to reveal that there were hills and the point of origin was lower than them, then she magnified it, "have a 'rough' location." She began to deftly move about the task that was now hers thanks to the sudden need for someone who knew anything about tracing a signal. "It should be simple enough to triangulate it in full once we have boots on the ground to pick it up."

Cutter calmly pushed a button on the side of the table display. "Cutter to Jerome."

"Reporting Captain."

"Prep Spartan Red Team and a small recon squad. Professor Anders will send you the coordinates. Find out who is sending that signal. Be on the ground within the hour, travel light."

Anders began the process of sending the data. "Roger that sir," came back Jerome's voice, "loud and clear. Recon only." Cutter turned from the main display and looked briefly over at Anders.

"Twenty-eights years professor." He gazed out upon the vast form of the artificial world below them. He spoke with some small amount of caution and something else indecipherable in his voice now. "Let's see what kind of galaxy we woke up to."

. . . . .

On the ride down to the surface in the Pelican, Red Team and the pilots overheard chatter from the Professor and Cutter. "Professor have you managed to isolate and locate the signal?"

"It was not the easiest task but I managed to clean it up somewhat. I have narrowed the location down to a small sector and the recon teams are investigating now. I also managed to clear up the scans enough to pick up a small UNSC outpost or research station, but it appears to be heavily damaged. While it looks bad, the Spartans will be able to handle it. They always do."

 _Would that that were true,_ thought Jerome.

"The task would go a lot quicker if you were willing to permit me to go down with them sir."

"Yes it would Professor, but without a shipboard AI I need you more than ever on the Spirit of Fire, and beyond all of that, we simply don't know what is waiting for us down there."

"Understood, Captain." She did not sound entirely happy about it but she would get her chance. Jerome knew what was really up and it caused him to briefly smile. Being in uncharted territory had riled up the Professor's overwhelming curiosity. Like any other scientist, once the bug bit 'em, they simply found it difficult to restrain themselves.

"Jerome," Cutter intruded on his thoughts, "get to those coordinates ASAP. I want you to make first contact with whoever is sending that signal as quick as possible."

"Read and understood sir. We'll find them," Jerome replied.

Jerome stretched again just like the others did and breathed in and out a little. The anticipation of having freedom to move was getting to him and the rest of Red Team. Spartan Red Team consisted of Senior Chief Petty Officer Jerome-092, Alice-130, and Douglas-042.

Jerome was born into a life of poverty in the infamous Palaikos borderlands. This lead, forced him rather, into an early life of crime and violence. His survival in this harsh world caught the attention of ONI and he was abducted and indoctrinated into the Spartan-II program. He proved something of a hard case as he made several attempts at escape before transforming from a self-centered man bent on survival to a true leader and earned himself his own squadron of "lessers" or "washouts" as others had deemed his teammates during their time in the Spartan-II program.

Alice, as a child, displayed a high amount of aptitude for engineering and this flagged her as a possible candidate for the program. Unlike many of the candidates, Alice did not experience trauma in the face of the challenges, but rather welcomed them with open arms. Many believed her to be a "perfect" Spartan, but her body rejected the augmentation process in the beginning. She had to undergo training again, and it was in this time that she met Jerome and Douglas who were also considered "washouts" because they did not meet the standard.

Douglas was a different story from the usual candidate. He had come from an affluent family in the Asphodol colony and struggled to adjust to the program. After dealing with cultural shock, his anger began to give away to confidence of a quiet nature. Many a Spartan had looked at him and declared him to be a "giant", and indeed Douglas actually did come to personally believe that he had found his destiny. This marked him as a special one, because not many a candidate was happy about the changes in their lives. Douglas was an optimist amongst his brothers and sisters in the program, and that faith and hope often served as a lift for the spirits of those more cynical.

"Spirit of Fire actual," called the Pelican pilot over the intercom, "I am approaching the drop zone with Red Team. Stand by for drop." The pilot swung low with practiced skill and cut loose the Warthog carrying all three Spartans. Clunk! went the heavy four-wheeled vehicle on the ground with Alice in the back manning the heavy caliber machine gun and Jerome in the driver's seat on the left.

"Looking forward to shaking off some of the cobwebs," Jerome said.

Douglas agreed. "Feels real good to have our feet back on real, solid ground once more doesn't Alice?"

"You saw this place on the flight down Douglas. Nothing 'real' about it." Alice being the straight one in this conversation.

"Yeah I know. But all the same, the feeling of actual gravity in an Earth-like environment just cannot be beaten by simulated gravity."

Yeah it felt good. But what would really feel good was finding that origin point of the signal and who was sending it. Part of him almost wanted action but he knew in truth that action meant people dying or the threat of death looming over one's own head. It was never something that should be desirable unless they wanted to make themselves into the source of chaos and misery.

Recon teams were already in play on the ground. It was "night" in this place so lights dotted the landscape through the trees and grass as the soldiers searched the area for life. The Warthog was calmly and smoothly maneuvered to its destination: a barricade. "Recon One reporting, we have set up charges for you to get rid of this obstacle."

"Got it. Get clear of the blast." Alice trained the auto cannon on the barricade and it quickly went up in dust.

"Not really sure what they were defending against sir, but there are some heavy-duty barricades here. Know that it goes without saying but please be careful sir."

"Thanks, will do," Jerome replied.

Recon One moved forward past the rubble and placed charges on another barricade not more than twenty feet away. It quickly followed its brother, but the question remained about why it was there. "Jerome, these aren't military defenses," observed Alice.

"No. These things were made in a hurry with anything that could be thrown together." Jerome didn't like what he talking about in the least. "They must have been desperate." All of this made him uneasy for some reason. The dark suddenly seemed to conceal something.

"Why wouldn't they have defenses?" Douglas piped in. "They must have expected to be targeted by the Covenant. Those guys swore to wipe us all out after all."

No reply to that as Jerome maneuvered them forward. "Hold on, jump ahead."

"Wahoo!" laughed Douglas. "Hahaha! Oh, but I've missed this!"

Jerome had to agree. It was the sort of action that made a Spartan's heart race and blood thrill. Spartan's loved jumps and racing in Warthogs, a feeling shared with the everyday drivers, and also a small number of other things that most avoided. It was never easy being a Spartan, but when you got the chance, you did things to prove yourself still human even if you wore armor. Even a Spartan could have fun. It was simply difficult to prove that to the world when you more often than not were at the forefront of conflict.

"These are research buildings," commented Alice, continuing to observe their surroundings as the Warthog continued to deftly maneuver around the trees and rubble under Jerome's steady hand. "The people here were not soldiers, they were scientists."

"Nice to see a friendly face," called a recon scout their way. She then resumed searching.

Scientist huh? Why would scientists be setting up barricades of such a nature? Had they actually been attacked or was it something else? An experiment gone wrong? Those sorts of things could, and did, happen at times. Gah, too many questions. No answers. A deactivated light bridge barred their way. Douglas hopped out just long enough to interface with its controls and bring it online so they could cross.

"Hey," said Douglas breaking Jerome's train of thought. Then he heard it as well. Whup-whup-whup-whup. A craft flew overheard. "What's a Nightingale doing here? Do we have wounded?" Okay, now something wasn't right with this scenario. Jerome suddenly felt like he was a piece on a game board being maneuvered by invisible hands and he had no will to resist it, only the voice to scream and protest.

The Nightingale was an emergency craft with drones that had healing abilities. As a dedicated unit for support, it lacked combat abilities but was a vital assist on the battlefield for injured. Its presence here was not a good thing on this occasion. Smoke and fire drew them off the beaten path. Some the team on the ground were gathered around a pulverized Pelican. "Its one of our recon teams sir," reported the squad leader. "We found them like this when we arrived. Didn't see whatever it was that hit them. Just know that whatever it was had to have struck _hard_ and _fast_."

"It looks as though we might just end up seeing some action after all," Alice said grimly fingers tightening on the handles of the cannon. They pressed onward and the landscape of earth and trees gave way to metal and mystery.

"Jerome," Cutter's voice came over the intercom, "our recon teams scouted out this portal that will take you down to the source of the signal. I have ordered the rest of our forces to hold position back here and defend your exit while your investigating." The circular, flat panel glowing with blue light, proceeded to teleport them down to its companion. The path that was looked down upon from their original point of travel was dotted with more portals.

Jerome felt the need to comment at the sight of cables and metal flowers that were actually network dishes standing by the portals and appeared to actually be connected to them. "Hey professor Anders, we have found some more portals but there's something strange about them."

"Odd," was Ander's comment at the sight from what she could receive from the Spirit of Fire through Jerome's visual feed. "They appear to have been modified. And those machines that are attached to them do not appear to be UNSC tech. Keep an eye out for any more of them in the area."

A short turn to the right and the path opened up into a flat region framed by cliffs. In the center was an array of buildings. _Henry Lamb Research_ outpost read the lettering on a sign in front of the largest. "Spirit of Fire, we're outside the research building," reported Jerome. "Base looks clear from out here. Let's see who's been calling."

With that, the Spartan team exited the vehicle and proceeded on foot. The ground outside seemed to have been pulverized at points. The buildings had blackened patches of dust and soot here and there. Debris was all over the place at certain locations. Looked like there was a fight or something of that nature here. The creepy part was how quiet everything was.

Wind howled through the darkened hallways and over equipment and tables. No bodies or anything to give a single sign as to the source of the signal or what had happened here. The Spartans kept going, sweeping helmet and weapon lights over everything on the alert. They were lightly armed with the standard-issue magnum, pistol, and knife. "Holotable, ten o'clock," said Alice.

Jerome went over to the table with its pinging and dim yellow light. He swept off the debris from surface in one smooth motion and lightly place his palm flat on the surface. With a whir and buzz, the table flared to life and a figure flashed into existence alongside the words _Distress Beacon Activated_. An AI, female, and a young one by appearances. Short, brunette hair, and a tank top completed the chosen appearance and gender of the AI.

She turned and smiled in relief at the sight of Jerome yet sounded concerned. "Spartans? Thank goodness. We have to get out of here."

"Identify."

The AI stood to attention though there was a hint of anxiety due to her rushed speech. "Isabel. UNSC Logistics, Ark Research Outpost."

"Isabel. Where are the survivors? What is the strength of the Covenant force here?"

"Covenant? No. Why would you…listen. You're in incredible danger." This was one spooked AI. A noise. Sounded like a crash. Impact of something heavy on metal or close to that.

The AI spun back towards the shadows beyond her and Red Team's lights followed. "Oh no," whispered Isabel, her tone growing tight with tension and fear.

"What was _that_?" said Douglas a certain edge coming into his voice. It was that tone that came alive when there were threats.

Isabel turned back as another distant Clang! rang out. "Its _him_." WH-BANG! This time there was an actual, physical tremor. The holotable shook.

Combat intuition and memory took over. "You're coming with us," said Jerome yanking her chip from the table. Isabel vanished in a smooth motion like a blind going up. Jerome signaled with his hands and Red Team advanced slowly forward towards the disturbance. Jerome took the left, Alice claimed center and forefront, while Douglas hugged the right.

They kept going forward and then entered into what was the center of the outpost for the hallway opened up into a massive rotunda with a domed ceiling. The path split into four at this point. Alice suddenly dropped her Magnum, fingers clutching at her throat. The Spartan made gagging choking noises as she fought to pry loose the hand that held her effortlessly off the floor.

The massive figure in the shadows threw Alice to the side. Jerome had the opening first and let loose a barrage. Both he and Douglas left the ground as a red, sparking shock-wave of force erupted from the object in their adversary's right hand that it slammed on the floor. Ooft! A massive left fist, deftly punched Jerome down the hall into a pile of crates that had been meant to wall it off. Douglas was suddenly yanked with a groan off his feet by a massive crackling red beam of force that pulled him to his adversary who then effortlessly performed the equivalent of a body slam on him.

Alice came back into the fight, pistol blazing only to be swatted aside with a left backhanded fist. Douglas was on one knee moving to his weapon only to be intercepted and bodily kicked aside. Jerome charged in, ducked the right fist with a slide, and drove his knife with expert precision into the ribs. He too was knocked aside like he was a bag of leaves. Alice came back firing for the head. This time the towering opponent just casually seemed to maneuver in such a way as to drive both elbow and butt end of the weapon handle into her chest flooring her. Douglas got his weapon back and took aim as he rose only to have the gun casually knocked away into the shadows beyond.

His knife drove into his opponent's exposed abdominal region and an armor-clad right hand slapped down on to his shoulder and drug him around in a complete one eighty-degree spin. He drove the knife in again and then the hand began to _squeeze_. Douglas was driven down to a knee. He groaned fighting to reach the blade that was embedded in his enemies' flesh, fought…and lost. There was the sound of metal armor resisting incredible pressure, and then it began to make the worst groaning sound: the sound of pressure surpassing the limits of resistance. Douglas gave a groan as he struggled, he went down to both knees, and then there was a crack. And _a scream_. Douglas howled in pain, his head thrown back to the ceiling, as his shoulder pad was crushed and the vulnerable flesh, muscle, and bone underneath it. He collapsed to the floor groaning and gasping in pain on three limbs, right hand cradling his injury, the sheer brilliance of pain in his shoulder nearing him to the edge of blacking out.

His hulking adversary did not press the advantage. Instead, simply stood there, and then the weapon ignited with crimson, surging light and energy. Blades popped out of the club end, and Douglas fought to rise to his feet. Only the right foot got planted. CRACK! went the war club against his armor sending Douglas easily four feet through the air and he fell down in a heap with an audible groan. Ka-thunk! went his helmet on the floor. The towering figure, now clearly wielding a mace-like weapon, contemptuously withdrew the knife and tossed it on the floor.

A four-fingered hand casually picked up the fallen Spartan's helmet. "As I suspected…" growled a bestial voice like an avalanche of rocks, casually squeezing the helmet until the visor broke and the helmet was a smoking, crumpled mess like a crushed aluminum can, "…nothing, but a man." Douglas' face was blackened and reddened alongside the left eye where the mace had scored him as his helmet was knocked loose. His armor smoked near the top of his shoulder, and across his chest near the left pectoral. His movements were shuffling and limited. He appeared to almost be about to pass out.

The intercoms chimed in as Jerome and Alice stumbled back towards their comrade. "Red Team, this is Recon One. You have multiple hostiles approaching your location." Alice stumbled briefly, was minus her rifle, but still held her pistol steady. Both Spartans kept eyes trained on the figure they could now clearly see was a brute.

"Alice…" then Jerome made an executive decision. "We're leaving," he finished warily keeping his eyes on the brute, who was displaying no concern. Alice grabbed Douglas by the neck of his armor and began to pull him away as best she could while Jerome covered them. The brute made no move, merely stood there seeming amused at their retreat.

A terrible chuckle came from his frame. "Yes," he hoisted his lit gravity hammer up near his face so the red energy blades illuminated a face with war paint and scarring that resembled a man-like wild hog, only more ferocious and dangerous. "Run, little demons." His exhalations were harsh and hissed with terrible force, his voice grating on the nerves like the sound of rocks continuously grinding against one another.

"Command. This is Red Team. We have a Spartan casualty," said Jerome.

"Hunt them down," growled the brute like gravel turning around and striding back into the shadows beyond. CLANG! went the response of arms on the floor.

"Immediate evac requested." Douglas was still breathing but his right hand appeared to be sinking.

"Find out where they came from." CLANG! came the response again in the dark.

"Douglas stay with me," ordered Jerome desperately. If he fell unconscious…

The brute was lost to the dark now but his voice came back even stronger and more audible down the halls to the Spartan's own ears. "And bring me back anything…"

Clink. "Douglas!" The right hand fell limply to the floor and dragged.

"…useful." CLANG! came the response a third time. From beyond came the sounds of wild boars snuffling and growling, snarling. A bellow, harsh and guttural, a primal hunting call, erupted from the darkness followed by the sound of rushing feet. It was the sound of animals that thirsted for the kill having caught the scent of blood…and now they were in a frenzy to chase down their victim sensing weakness.

Jerome stopped briefly to take in their surroundings. The sun was starting to rise from what he could see with the horizon, but his attention was drawn to the surrounding cliffs. They were dotted with forms. An army was massing on them. He counted Jiralhanae and Sangheili, but the brutes seemed more numerous in number than the Sangheili and they were clad in crimson armor with weapons beyond the dreaded gravity mace they characteristically held. The valley was ringing with deep booming voices yelling in force. "COME ON, COME ON!" yelled Jerome feeling a deep need to be gone from this place. They were outnumbered, and completely outgunned on this one. They needed reinforcements.

Alice groaned under the cumbersome burden of Douglas on her shoulders, "Do we have a plan?" Jerome fired a few rounds back towards the building entrance to slow their pursuers.

"We do. Jerome to Spirit of Fire actual," he continued hopping into the driver's seat, while Alice put the prone form of Douglas in the passenger before climbing to the gun.

"Cutter here. Status?"

"Sir," Jerome prepped the engines to life, "requesting danger close. On our location, trailing north. Commence five seconds." The Warthog rumbled into readiness.

"Interesting plan," commented Alice swinging the autocannon around towards the rear, preparing for the inevitable pursuers.

A pause. "Understood. Archer Missiles inbound." From the underbelly of the Spirit of Fire, mechanisms retracted and opened revealing the hatch doors containing the war heads. The round noses of the weapons appeared, stopped, and then rocketed away towards the specified coordinates.

Jerome hesitated long enough to draw the craft that came speeding down the cliff sides near them. GRRRR-VVVRROOOOOOWWWWWRRRRRR! Jerome gunned the engine and spat gravel as the Warthog shot away with a roar punctuated by the Rat-at-ta-t-at-at! of the autocannon.

"Hang on!" he yelled as they earth shook with explosions behind them. The missiles pummeled the earth with terrible force and killed a number of pursuers. A few vehicles and brutes on foot were no more but there were plenty more behind them, Jerome knew that.

"H-hello? What's happening out there? Where are we going?" Isabel inside Jerome's helmet. Made sense for her to be asking questions. Her chip didn't have the qualities to interface with his armor so she was unable to get visual information but she was aware to an extent through the noises.

"We're gettin' you outta here Isabel. Just sit tight."

"And then we're coming back for that brute!" yelled Alice over the noise.

"I tried to warn you all. You're lucky to even be alive."

"Hold on jump incoming," called Jerome. The trees kept hiding figures and vehicles that leapt out at them. Brutes, Sangheili, even Unggoy, alongside Wraiths. Those already barring the path, Jerome simply rammed through leaving their remains on the ground. He didn't bother to see what their state was, and those who tried to intercept them had to deal with aimed bombardments from the Spirit of Fire. The Recon teams had already evacuated. Red Team was only group left on the ground.

"Watch out! Over there!" yelled Alice turning the autocannon to the right as they skidded through a curve in the road. The pad nearby, originally dark and silent, now burned with golden orange light, and more of the enemy materialized from it after them.

"Their using the Ark's portals!" said Isabel.

"Portals," groaned Alice. "Why is it always portals?"

An obstruction to their path suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The road was gone and the light bridge was out. "The controls! Alice now!" Alice leapt from the cannon and ran to the interface. Jerome bodily jumped from his seat and into the back and began firing at the pursuers closing on them on foot. He counted Hunters amongst their ranks now. A few fell but they kept running over their fallen comrades. Definitely not fitting with the usual Covenant threat. "Make it quick, their closing in!"

"That's it! Move, I'll cover you!" Alice jumped into the hog long enough to rip off the cannon and rig it up into a chain gun that she needed both hands to hold. She began spraying the oncoming rush of bodies with artillery. Two Banshees flew in low and let loose with plasma torpedoes.

"She's gone!" yelled Isabel.

"Don't you believe it," returned Jerome as they sped to the pad across from the bridge to where a Pelican was waiting. Two others were already circling in formation with machine guns and rockets blazing. The Banshees were forced to break off pursuit to avoid getting shot down. An airborne fight quickly broke out but the pilots gunned their engines and took off. Hornets provided cover and a brief distraction for them. "We're onboard pilot. Let's go."

"We have a medical team on standby for Douglas," said Cutter. "Jerome, I want a report ASAP from you and that AI as soon as your back on the Spirit of Fire."

As they raced away, explosions and violence greeted the rising of the new day.


	2. Hidden Chapter 1

"Secrets and Shadows"

"Alice is MIA. She'll stay silent down there until we actually have a chance or vice versa at getting back here," assured Jerome as the Pelican landed in the docking bay. No response. She had been quiet ever since he had escaped with Douglas from the ambush.

As he disembarked, Jerome briefly hesitated one step from leaving the ship. _Does the Captain know? Does he suspect? Has Anders told him?_

Jerome began to move again knowing that Cutter was expecting him. Still, as he moved down the halls he remembered that they had looked a bit different a number of years back. Did Cutter know the truth behind why the crew was actually down a number of engineers and crew? Had he heard the message yet, read the report?

. . . . .

(January 1, 2537. Six years after the sacrifice of Sergeant Forge and the death of Arbiter Ripa 'Moramee on Shield World 0459)

Jerome was never meant to be involved; only Anders. Sadly, it could not be helped. Her mind simply was not with her anymore. Six years of continuous function after one year of service aboard the Spirit of Fire, and Serina was in early stages of rampancy. It was a state of deterioration that was common to all AI's as they aged. After seven years passed, the AI would be disposed of. If not, the AI risked becoming a threat to themselves and others around them.

Rampancy was a state in which the sum total of all knowledge the AI had ever experienced began to destroy it. They literally would begin to think to such a vast degree as to destroy themselves and even lose all restraints in the process. The AI could start thinking very dangerous thoughts, engage in dangerous activities, all manner of behavior was possible due to their instability. For Serina, it was an inability to comprehend a threat on board the Spirit of Fire, that nearly destroyed them.

" _I am six days away from achieving full Rampancy. Six days away from reaching the end of my operational lifespan. And I must figure out what to do before that ends as we still have not entered into human space thanks to having been forced to sacrifice our Shaw-Fujikawa drive._ " The flickering figure of Serina regarded something in the vessel. What was that? Silence. Nothing. Her perceptions, warped and distorted as they were now, were playing tricks on her. It was time to awaken one of the engineers. Simple procedure to ensure the Spirit of Fire kept working; routine examination and maintenance. This time it was engineering specialist Violeta Maldini's turn.

" _Good morning to you Miss Maldini_ ," stated Serina. Even in her degraded state, she still managed to be polite.

"Likewise to you Serina. Guess that since I'm up its time for inspection," stated the blonde, blue-eyed woman. She promptly made her way to the cafeteria where she made herself a fresh cup of coffee. The woman did like it a lot. Nothing in the universe got between her and coffee. "Ahhhh. Well," she stretched with a smile, "time to go to work."

Serina's thoughts turned inward again. " _Boredom plagues me at times. The silence is perhaps the most terrible part. That…and attempting to begin to understand this sensation that rises up within me when I think of what comes after my dispensation. I…I would almost label this strange experience as…fear._ "

"Alright," said Maldini, "Everything checks out good. So far nothing out of the ordinary. She looks pretty good for something that lacks a slip-space drive." Something caught her eyes. A small patch of something sticky. Yuck. Her hand came away from it producing strings. What was this stuff? A noise. Where? SKEERRRIIIEIEEIK! Arms and tendrils filled her vision just before she was bodily tackled by her assailant.

" _Miss Maldini?_ " Nothing. " _Ma'am your vitals are…_ " A flash of movement by the camera. " _My goodness. Well, this is unexpected. What should I do?_ " Then, " _I have it._ "

A simple command and the doors locked. The staggering thing that had once the human being named Violeta Maldini stumbled into the door and began to uselessly bang against it. The Cryo-Bay doors held. The Flood Combat Form stumbled away and began to move about the room seeking to escape. Serina watched the organism with interest. This was something new, something different. It must be studied, must be documented. And besides all that, she had secured it safely away. " _My final days shall be spent gathering all intel I can on this most fascinating thing. Humanity will need to be aware of its full potential. Though the vital signs would suggest Specialist Maldini is dead, her actions paint her to be sentient and capable of movement. More observations to come._ "

. . . . .

(January 2, 2537)

" _The organism seeks some avenue of escape yet in vain. Humanity will doubtlessly encounter something like this again so I continue to observe it. Specialist Maldini is doubtlessly dead, but what remains is surprising in its vitality and efforts to thwart the lockdown I have imposed upon it. It attacks the equipment at times, or simply stares sightlessly. I have to wonder if this thing actually thinks. If so, what are its thoughts? What does it want?_ "

" _Obviously it does not want to be imprisoned, thought the curious feature about it is the fact that it seeks to keep changing or perpetuating a life cycle that has multiple stages. Most curious. Its behavior would suggest it must find something other than itself in order to commence this process. But now that it has started, what happens next? I shall keep watching. It cannot escape, and I am quite content to have something to do other than just play all the old games I have already conquered countless times or study the equations I already know by heart, or even repeat every last name of every last person I have ever encountered._ "

. . . . .

(January 3-4, 2537)

" _Something most unfortunate has occurred. The creature that was Maldini has somehow changed its form in an effort to enable its escape from quarantine. It exploded and released more of the creatures that changed Specialist Maldini and now they seek not to break through the door. Rather they have begun attacking, and opening with ease, cryo-tubes, and are now infecting crew personnel. It seems I have miscalculated and given the organism time to reproduce and now it seeks to spread more of itself across this vessel. I…my mind…it would appear that I cannot…I need assistance. My mind is not in…proper state…functional capacity anymore. Need help…Anders._ "

(15 Minutes later)

"Hello? Serina? What the heck is going down here? The Cryo-Bay has been placed under quarantine. I can't get out and these…things, are everywhere and are attempting to break open the cryo-tubes."

" _That's Spartan Jerome's voice._ " Serina linked up with him. " _Sir. What are you doing awake in there? I only meant to awaken Anders for assistance with this…most unique and wonderful-blast it-situation we find ourselves in. My mental capacity is now insufficient to dealing with this-this thing._ "

"If Anders awoke, I made sure that so would I just to keep watch. Safety for her, after the incident with the Arbiter."

"Thank you for that Spartan," said Anders. "Unfortunately, I'm unable to get you out of there and neither can Serina. The quarantine protocols are in effect and prohibit me from lifting them unless every last threat is dealt with."

"No problem. Got myself a weapon and plenty of grenades her for our friends."

" _Spartan you might want to hurry up and kill it._ " Serina continued, " _My observations suggest the more people these things infect, the more likely they will breach the lockdown. After infecting Specialist Maldini, these things began to open the tubes with ease. They learned it from her._ "

"Jerome!" yelled Anders. "The whole mass of them are swarming towards the door! They may have just infected someone with knowledge of the codes needed to break the quarantine!"

"On it." A combat form leapt at him. It was the former Lieutenant Kwan and he most likely had knowledge of the potential codes. "Sorry for this sir," Jerome said regretfully as the thing went down in a hail of bullets from his gun. "Serina, just how many of these bloody things are there?"

" _I fear at least twenty-something_ ," said the AI. " _Sorry, thirty, no—_ "

"There are twenty-seven total infected with about fifteen other infectors still attempting to break open more tubes," Anders cut in helpfully.

" _Now, Professor, while Jerome deals with these_ 'invaders' _, excuse me, with these creatures, I would like to talk with you about our current position and my condition._ "

Bwam! Splat! An infector jumped on Jerome's helmet from behind. KRACK! went his fist against it, shattering it into goo before it could breach his helmet. "Come out wherever you are! I got nothing but time!"

" _Let us be frank Professor, I am unwell, and we are still nowhere near human space and I cannot predict, even at my best, that we shall be found by friendlies any time soon._ "

"What do you suggest we do? You are all but Rampant now, and we cannot jump anywhere since we were forced to use our slip-space drive to stop the Covenant from obtaining a new fleet on that world."

" _I must undergo final dispensation and leave you. But I want you to do it Professor,_ " she quickly said before Anders could get in a word. " _I wish you to do it. I have no desire to awaken the Captain to this, this mess, I have unintentionally helped to make. Please._ "

"Are you sure? It's a violation of protocol—"

" _I know protocol, but I cannot awaken Captain Cutter only to send him back with this on his mind. We have already lost a number of personnel before this occurred, including Sergeant Forge, and now more are dead because I don't have the ability to hold things together anymore. I know I shouldn't take all the blame, but I just cannot do this to him. On top of that, it helps you stand ready for taking my place._ "

"I...that is…thoughtful of you."

" _Professor please. I want you to be the one to explain what happened. I also need help to create an incident report for the Captain. The best thing that can happen is if Cutter does not see me like this. He already is saddened and hurt enough from the sacrifice on that Forerunner world and then this…it would break his heart. I don't want him to remember me this way; I want him to remember me at my best so as to give him the strength to move on. He carries a burden that is heavy enough without me adding additional baggage._ "

"…Alright. I'll do it. I'll help you out with this."

" _Thank you. I don't need to commit any more fatal errors._ "

"Speaking of errors, Jerome, it looks like there is only one of these things left."

" _Spartan Jerome, this is Serina, you'll find that nasty thing inside another one of the bays. Cryo-Bay Foxtrot 7 is clear. Get it before it infects any more personnel._ "

"Got it Serina. I'm on its trail." There was silence and then, "Hey! You said there was only one! There's still more of 'em!"

" _What?! That cannot be right according to what I'm reading_ ," returned the AI.

"It's carrying more of the darn pods on its back! It figured out how to hide its numbers from us because of how we were picking it off. This thing's already figuring out how we fight on the fly and countering us."

" _No choice then. No time to waste on you missing one when they are conveniently together right here, right now._ "

"Serina what are you—"

"HEY!" yelled Jerome. "WHICH IDIOT OPENED THE EXTERIOR HATCH?!" KAAWOOOOOOSSSSHH! Air rushed out of the bay through the hatch into the vacuum of space. The shrieking squirming Flood form, along with its brethren, was sucked through the hatch...along with Jerome.

SHINK! BWAM! "!#$$/#%$%! !#%/&*& *#$^*#$," said Jerome. He angrily cursed a rather mean streak while holding his aching back from where he had collided with an anchored crate and the hatch as it closed. "SERINA! Your really lucky right now that all I can hurl at you is bad language! When I get up to the ding-busted bridge I swear—"

"We're in the clear now Jerome. You can stop," cut in Anders to calm his temper. "It would be best if we didn't talk for a little bit. Head back to the cryo-stasis, I won't be long."

"What are you doing?" he growled through clenched teeth as calmly as he could. He had almost managed to get back to his feet now.

"Helping Serina get everything ready for final dispensation."

"Hey waitaminit. She missed these things already once, and she could do so again. I ain't goin' to sleep again until I know that we got no more problems to handle."

" _My_ scans, "Mr. Jerome", are showing no more of these things anywhere on the ship. The quarantine has lifted and we are in the clear. Please lay off and give Serina a little grace. She won't be with us much longer. She intends to end it right here and now. Today."

"Oh." He put the weapons away and prepared to return to cryo-stasis. "Serina," he finally said, near the chamber he would rest in again, "Sorry for my words earlier. I…darnnit, I'm gonna miss you. Now we're down another member of our family. The Captain's gonna need to be told all this. I should probably—"

" _Miss Anders will explain it for you. I also am creating a report as we speak. In it I am highlighting your unexpected and welcome aid and including the nature of my condition. It's best if we let the Captain sleep without any more worries at the moment. Whenever the time comes, when you return to civilization, I won't be with you. I accept your angry words. I am simply not myself anymore._ "

"I apologize anyway," said Jerome. "And I wish you good luck. You did good. Not many AI's in your state could have managed that clever trick with the hatch."

" _Thank you Spartan Jerome. You know, I suddenly find myself wishing against this. I don't really…want to…_ "

"Doubt anybody wants to "die" in this existence of ours. Yet all things reach their end. There is a certain peace in accepting that. Thanks for everything as well Professor. Be sure to set everything just like before in case you happen to wake up again." She assured him she would. "Alright, good night. Sleep well Serina, Professor Anders." With that Spartan Jerome went back into cryo-sleep.

"Okay. Almost…done," said Anders with a few final taps. The incident report was ready and complete. Then the Professor helped the AI finalize preparations for dispensation. Serina also created a number of contingency briefings for the crew in order to insure their readiness for any number of situations they might awaken to. "Hey, Serina, I couldn't help but notice that the Cryo-Bay holds something it didn't originally."

" _Ah, I see you found my 'special project'. Yes I was busy on some things. Cryogenic technology holds potential beyond the chambers that prolong life through sleep. I had almost finished fine-tuning them. Perhaps the next AI you have can add the finishing touches. It would give the Spirit of Fire more flexibility in a skirmish. Plus I found another little idea that Forge never got the chance to work on. It would be difficult to have more than one on the battlefield, but one would be more than enough. Plus I have an idea or two for the Spartans._ "

"Well, I'll definitely take a look into the plans and these 'cryo-troopers' when I get a chance," Anders promised. Serina smiled sadly at that.

"Alright," Anders said in her cryo-chamber, "Goodbye Serina. 'Till next time." Then she was asleep.

" _You seem to have forgotten that there isn't a "next time". Not for me at least. A small error of human speech I guess._ " Serina looked over everything one last time. The report was ready and restricted unto the Professor and Captain. All that was left was to push the switch to commence with her disposal. _I don't want to go away…not into the dark…I don't… Oh, well; there's no time like the present. …Goodbye Captain and good luck._

Then, twenty-two years later, the message played. " _Captain, wake up. Something has happened…_ "

. . . . .

This was pointless, Jerome decided. His job was to best focus on delivering Isabel to Captain Cutter. His regret of the past was that he could not make the noble sacrifice like Forge had. But the Sergeant had said that Jerome would be needed far more than he would ever be. Maybe, just maybe, he had been unknowingly referring to the incident with the parasite and this latest of threats. _I'll do my best to live up to your expectations Sergeant_.


End file.
